


It Happened in Dorne

by Isola_Caramella



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, JBO March Meet Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10112903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isola_Caramella/pseuds/Isola_Caramella
Summary: Wildling Whiskey and a last minute vacation





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Some_Jewels_In_Your_Skull](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Some_Jewels_In_Your_Skull/gifts).



> This is for my favorite beta ever, not only for betaing my work but always making sure I'm not on a hospital bed somewhere and keeping me in your prayers xoxo

Brienne was swimming to the surface of sapphire blue waters but no matter how hard she kicked, the surface remained elusive. However the constricting pressure on her chest was the strong golden arm of the beautiful man from the lobby, not water as she had been dreaming. Realization sluggishly crept in that she was in a strange bed with the sweetest ache. Gods, she'd slept with the Warrior incarnate and her mind couldn't even be decent enough to remember a single detail. The bottle of thirty year old Wildling Whiskey came vividly back into focus as she slithered out of the bed and quietly picked up the articles of clothing she could find.

She cursed her father and his absurd matchmaking attempt with his old military pal Humphrey Wagstaff. She'd been so humiliated and hurt she'd left Tarth early and went to Dorne to clear her head before going back to work and the blessed anonymity that King's Landing provided. As she jerked into her slim fitting jeans she thought about the man occupying the bed she was swiftly vacating.

His name was Jaime, she at least remembered that, and the resort staff had managed to switch their black suitcases up as the bellmen made their deliveries. When black boxers and pressed khakis greeted her instead of leggings and tunics, Brienne had trudged the half mile back to the check in center and waited patiently as the tall man in front of her tried to find out where his luggage had been taken. The pretty dark haired agent was about to call around to the young men delivering luggage when Brienne stopped her. Jaime had turned around and Brienne could see the same thing she saw every time most people looked at her for the first time.

The difference this time was he had the good grace to swallow each thought Brienne saw tripping over his tongue to get out. Green eyes raked down her frame before coming back up to her eyes and setting off a thousand fireworks in her head. Exasperation creeped into her bones as she thought of the first time she met Renly, of course the next man to catch her eye would also be ridiculously unattainable.

"Ms. Tarth, I apologize for the mix up. Tristane is on his way back now to give you both a ride back to your units." The blessedly efficient Obara announced. Brienne had declined her offer and turned to Jaime to hand over his suitcase in exchange for her own.

She'd started on the bottle of whiskey after changing into comfortable leggings and her worn Westerosi Museum sweatshirt. Better to drink herself into oblivion than think about the cosmic joke her life had always been and would probably continue to be.

¥¥¥***¥¥¥

After making it back to her villa Brienne jumped into the shower, trying to sober up enough to remember how she ended up in someone else's bed. When she'd brought her suitcase back the bottle of whiskey was the the first thing she took out. A gift Humphrey had brought for her father as a thank you. Two quick shots into the bottle and she had already felt more at ease. Her limbs were warm and loose and her mind was working full time on letting go.

The details were fuzzy and through the haze she could only recall Jaime knocking on her door to return something he'd forgotten to replace after realizing the suitcase belonged to someone else.

She'd done the polite thing and offered him a drink thinking he would decline but instead he walked in and said yes. There was definitely talk about their fathers and for some reason she could see them in cloaks but no more solvent memories surfaced from her haze.

  
In less than 48 hours Brienne was cutting two vacations decidedly short, it was early enough that she could catch a flight back into Kings Landing and call the resort staff and check out by phone once she was home. Getting back to work and away from people seemed the best course of action.

By midweek Brienne felt more at ease; the artifacts for the Weapons of Ancient Westeros were all catalogued and ready to set up for display once the design was complete. Renly was the listed Project Manager but he'd given her duties well out of her scope because he believed in her. Her father had called to apologize at his blundering error and the new Pirates of Lyseni would be opening in two days. If her body demanded a repeat performance of Jaime she just put it out of her mind, which still couldn't conjure up a clear memory.

"Hey B, we're heading to the pub, are you coming?" Loras's curly head rested on her shoulder as he batted perfect eyelashes at her.

"Next time, I have to go to KLU to pick up some paperwork."

"Oh? What for?"

"Professor Stark found a certificate program they started for Museum Studies, she recommended I sign up."

"A masters in Ancient History isn't enough?" His perfect nosed crinkled prettily and made Brienne want to pull his hair. Loras despised school and had made it out of Highgarden on the strength of his family's endowment and people willing to do his coursework for him. Brienne shook her head and almost smiled at him.

The drive from campus to her apartment dragged on until the sun was decidedly set and put away for the night. The cause of traffic clear after she made it to the accident on the Street of Sisters, a quick sandwich from Hot Pie would have to be dinner tonight. The application for the certificate program had turned out to be more involved than she had anticipated. At the very least she would have something to do before bed.

Arrhythmia wasn't new to her, her father had bouts of it from time to time but experiencing it for herself made Brienne hold onto the wall. The large envelope sitting in front of her door hadn't been a surprise, she ordered almost everything online but the bold "Brienne Lannister" above her address dropped her into an alternate dimension, the crisp and official marriage license listing her as the bride and Jamie Lannister as the groom had the effect of making her skin turn clammy and paler than it ever needed to be. How much whiskey had she downed?

Stannis's gruff rebuke for her one and only sick day in two years couldn't shake the trepidation out of Brienne's stomach. She'd spent a fitful night reading and rereading the certificate hoping that the words would change. The 24 hour sept had sent the license, the video of their ceremony and enough evidence to cement that she was never drinking anything more potent than water so long as she lived. Westisearch had given her the address for Lannister Enterprise's corporate office nestled in the Red Keep. It was on Hand of the King Way and looked as imposing as it should.

The tall, skinny page who emerged from the elevator to fetch her made Brienne even more nervous. His smile was overly familiar and it was still sometimes difficult to tell what the intention was behind a smile aimed at her. He seemed nice enough but so had Hyle and any other number of jerks.

"Miss Tarth, Mr. Lannister has been expecting you, please follow me. I'm Peck if you need anything just ask for either Pia or I."

Brienne followed mutely into the elevator and watched as the numbers lit up one by one. Peck stood ramrod straight with his hands at his sides like a guard. She was sure they were close in age, he still had the air of trying to prove himself. Much the same as she did every day at work.

The elevator stopped at the fiftieth floor and let them out into the executive floor. The gleaming marble floor squeaked under her sneakers causing Brienne to wince. Peck took her down a well appointed hallway with portraits of each past and present Lannister board member. She recognized Genna Lannister Frey's name from an endowment set up on her behalf for the children's section of the museum.

Jaime's office was sleek, leather and minimal. The view of King's Landing from so far up made her dizzy and she took the offered seat under a portrait of a smirking Jaime Lannister and mentally readied herself. She had prepared her speech and printed out a copy of the divorce documents from the courthouse website. Just in case she was wrong about their marriage's consummation, she also had a set of annulment papers which would be easier.

She waited patiently as Pia went to alert Jaime of her presence and take him away from a meeting she could only assume was important. This would be quick and efficient she told herself. A drunken mistake in Dorne that needed only their signatures and a trip to the courthouse.

If she'd remembered that he resembled the Warrior in fitted sweatpants and a green Henley, she realized he _was_ the Warrior when he walked in with his well cut suit that he had been poured into before coming to work. Brienne gulped, she'd thrown on clean running pants, a tank top and her zip up hoodie, looking more fit for a couple of hours at the gym than stepping foot into his corporate lair.

"Mr. Lannister, please pardon the intrusion..."

"Mr. Lannister?"

Brienne took a breath that was meant to fortify her but Jaime's tongue chose that moment to make a swipe across his bottom lip. Which had the Pycellian effect of making moisture pool in places best left unmentioned; warmth seeped up her shoulders and neck.

"Yes, Mr. Lannister, I've received some paperwork from Dorne..."

"Brienne," he said almost too sweetly, "I know how you taste, you can drop the formalities."

This time she felt her entire body flame down to her toes. Before Renly had made her take the public speaking classes during grad school she was never capable of having small talk or responding to japes quickly enough, but there was no training in the world to give her a response for such a crude, albeit possibly true, statement.

"Was it the hand?"

"What?" She spluttered out almost incoherently, realizing he'd crossed the room to stand a hands width apart from her.

"I woke up to find my new wife missing and her villa empty, I could only assume you took a good look at my stump and decided you'd rather be married to old Wagstaff than a cripple."

"I, no, it's better that way."

"Better what way?"

"If I'm gone in the morning."

"Are you so craven you couldn't face me in the morning?"

"Despite what happened, what it looks like, I don't make it habit."

Something dark passed his face then and Brienne felt like prey in an open field. "I was under the impression for a few moments that I'd taken your maidenhead; but then you flipped me and showed me why Daven always prefers a good Stormlands girl."

"What?!"

"I told him for years you lot were far too abstemious and spartan. Apparently under all of that well heeled pragmatism is a raging siren ready to lead old, crippled men to their deaths."

"I don't understand any of this. If you weren't drunk, why are we married?"

"You laid a very reasonable, mutually beneficial solution to a problem we were both facing; appeasing our meddling fathers. We get married, appear at all necessary family obligations and you continue taking the Museum by storm until your chance to become a curator. I get a nice head shot with my young wife and blurb on the company 'about us' page to impress our investors. That was until you suggested we make the marriage legitimate in case my father tried to have it annulled."

"I did no such thing. I don't know what game you're playing but this is not funny. Men like you don't..."

"Wench, there are no men like me. Only me."

"My name is Brienne."

"Yes, Mrs. Lannister, I know. After your performance on our wedding night though, wench is much more suitable to a woman of your considerable talent. Had I known you were such a lucid and hardheaded drunk I would have waited to say yes until the morning."

"It was thirty year old whiskey; I remember very little."

"Good taste in spirits. I assume those are divorce papers?"

"Yes, we just have to sign them and you'll be free to find someone more appropriate for your head shot."

"Do I get a chance to change your mind? I'm in no rush to be free of you just yet."

His lips were on her neck before she could think of an objection, one rough, calloused hand gripping her nape and rubbing small placating circles into her skin. Jaime deftly took the papers out of her hand and dropped them on the small table near her vacated seat. Somehow, the possibility of the divorce being contested had never crossed her mind. But as Jaime continued his trail of kisses along her jaw and neck, tiny sparks of remembrance sent hazy pictures of what she now had to acknowledge as their wedding night.

"Jaime..."

"So you do remember my name."


	2. Chapter 2

The sharp persistent knock on Jaime's office door had the same effect on Brienne as being thrown naked in a bear pit. She tried to jump back from Jaime but found she was pressed between a very turned on Jaime Lannister and his sturdy weirwood desk. His erection grinding into her even as the knocking continued. 

"We should go somewhere and talk." His voice was gravel and Brienne knew that inexplicably, he absolutely did not want to talk. Not about their drunken one night stand or their marriage. And Seven save her, she'd walk right into the middle of a field of Others at this very second if it meant staying in his arms. "Ten minutes and we go."

Brienne tried to smooth down her hair as Jaime walked to the door, giving up and moving away from the desk to pick up the papers Jaime had discarded. 

"What is the meaning of this Jaime? I put you in charge of the board meeting because I had other matters that needed my attention."

"Father."

Brienne stood up to find a tall, slender bald man staring daggers at Jaime before realizing they were not alone. He stood an inch or more shorter than Jaime but overpowered anyone in a thirty mile radius. 

"Jaime." He managed to make one name a question, a reproach and patent disapproval. The gold flecks in his cold green eyes glinting under the lights.

"Father. Your good-daughter, Brienne Tarth, now Lannister. Brienne, this is my father, Tywin." 

Brienne gave brief thought to taking a running jump through the glass, discarding the idea only after thinking of the toughened glass they used at the museum to prevent that very possible occurrence. Stannis was petrified of insurance liability and the paperwork necessary when accidents occurred. The ceremonial fire a follower of R'hollor had set at the museum during the Religions of the Known World had sent him into apoplectic fits for months. Davos had been on speed dial to help bring him down from near hourly rants about red witches. 

"Tarth? Selwyn Tarth? Jaime have you taken absolute leave of what few senses you have?" Tywin slammed the door behind him and sat at Jaime's desk to cradle his head. "Young lady does your father know about this marriage? No don't bother, of course he doesn't, my lack wit of a son yet lives."

"I'm not a child..." Brienne tried to sound indignant but her voice went too high and shrill.

"You're the man's only living child young lady. You disgrace him running off to marry without proper notification."

"Hmph, no worse than him trying to set me up with Wagstaff."

"Humfrey Wagstaff? Dear gods, everyone is going stark raving mad. Why in seven hells would he...gods. Where is your brother? We have to fix this."

"Fix what?"

"Have you seen Selwyn Tarth Jaime? Add four inches of height to your young wife, six inches in the shoulders and fists like an anvil with a twenty year career in the army. When I said find a wife I didn't mean to sully the Evenstar's only daughter!"

"Wait Evenstar? As in Evenstar Shipping?"

"Yes, you prized fool. Gods. Find your brother and have him meet me in my office. Seven fucking hells. Brienne, lovely to meet you, now excuse as I save 200 years worth of business."

Brienne waited until the door closed behind Tywin to turn to a sheepish Jaime. 

"What's going on?"

"I want to say upfront I did not realize your father owned Evenstar Shipping when we met."

"Spit it out Jaime."

"Evenstar is our only shipping company, going back to when Tarth was the only connection between Essos and Westeros. They, you, carry everything we ship out of Westeros. My father refuses to work with anyone else. If a Lannister product is going overseas, it's on an Evenstar ship. Seven hells."

"And you think my father will what? Stop doing business with you? That would be dishonorable and a breach he could ill afford. Especially not on account of me."

"You'd be shocked at what fathers would do for their daughters. We should go somewhere, far. Come back after your father no longer wants to kill me. How does The Wall sound?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Jaime is married? To Selwyn Tarth's daughter? My wastefully good looking brother Jaime?"

"Yes Tyrion and as I do not want to do business with the Frey's, for the love of everything holy and unholy review every single detail of our current contract with Evenstar Shipping. I'm going to try to keep your brother from being murdered."

"They didn't..."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were an uncle by summer."

"Truly? Isn't she..."

"She has a face only a father could love, but the hips to birth a half dozen Lannisters and she's not your cousin. I won't complain."

"The three billion gold dragons she'll inherit won't hurt either."

"Plus the marble mines and a sizable estate. Should your brother live through this, I'll send them to the Summer Isles on an extended honeymoon. How are things with the Tyrell girl?"

"Well enough."

"Take her to Dorne soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tywin/Tyrion chapter 
> 
> They do the thing soon


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was not beta-ed so expect typos, spelling/grammar errors etc until the beta fairy works her magic.

They didn't make it to the Wall, just Jaime's penthouse, sleek and beautiful like its owner. Brienne left her shoes near the door, unsure if the place had ever seen a speck of dirt after construction. Jaime started disrobing, with little regard for her rising blush, as soon as he crossed the threshold. Throwing his suit coat on the back of a chair, unbuttoning his shirt as he disappeared into what Brienne guessed was his bedroom.

After the make out session in his office had stripped her of any vestige of her common sense, she made her way to sit at the rustic dining room table, deeming the sofa too dangerous. It was a stunning replica of the turn of the century inn tables found along routes from King's Landing to Winterfell and beyond, the more she examined it the more she realized it was no replica but an authentic table that had been restored to pristine condition.

"That's a nice view." Jaime's voice danced up her spine and paralyzed Brienne momentarily, a memory of his low growl in her ear coming back in vivid detail as she turned to look in his cat like emerald eyes.

"You wanted to talk?" Brienne meant it as a statement but it ended as a question, her breathing erratic as Jaime looked at her with an unreadable expression. Then he put his hands on her shoulders, kneading at the little points of tension, when she looked at him, he kissed her.

He kissed her with no finesse, no politeness. It was a fiercely savage meeting of lips and teeth and tongue, two warriors meeting in the middle of battle with no armor, no weapons except their bodies. Jaime's arms wrapped tightly around her waist, molding her to him as his mouth plundered hers over and over. Breathing was no longer an option, just short gasps as his mouth pulled away only to crash into her again.

He left her mouth long enough to pull her earlobe between his teeth, biting down enough to make the pain pleasurable. Brienne held onto the table for support, feeling the floor move beneath her feet as Jaime's hand tugged on the waist of her pants. He moved quicker than her sluggish mind could process, her back hitting the table as he pulled her leggings off.

"Gods, Brienne," Jaime rasped against her chest, tugging one pointed nipple between his teeth. "We have to try, now that I have you, I can't do without you."

Jaime positioned her around him, held her wrists in his left hand, pressing into the taut muscles of her stomach, as he teased her, waited until she bucked against him wantonly. One sharp thrust joined together, the fabric of his pants rubbing on the back of her thighs excited her more than it should, to think he wanted her desperately enough to not properly undress, that he desired her. Sweat pooled between her small breasts, trickled down her face and made her back slide against the sturdy table. Jaime's right arm eased around her shoulders to pull her flush against him, pinning their hands between their bodies as he gave his last painfully hard thrusts, Brienne came with an ungodly groan, that left her throat dry and eyes wet.

This time when Brienne opened her eyes she remembered every touch. Welcomed the ache as she looked at the raindrops drowning King's Landing. Sunset was marred by the gray desolation of the sudden storm. Jaime's bed was covered in red and gold sheets, the urge to roll her eyes stopped when she thought of her own crescent and sapphire sheets.

When the urge to flee gripped her shoulders and shook her, Brienne forced herself to stay, hunkered down in the softness of his pillows and the warmth of the sheets and stayed. They'd probably be divorced in another few weeks, a few months at the longest, she could honor their hasty vows until then. In theory, this wasn't even her most ill advised relationship, and if she could have even one more night with her husband, she'd take it.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for a few weeks, I've tried to tame the smut and I gave up on them not being OOC.


End file.
